It was that one time.
I was tired, sick, stressed and I came home from work to spill out a problem I just could not find the other side of.
"Well Dwan, you're just going to have to figure it out."
And I exploded.
I told him I shouldn't have to figure it out, that I felt like I have had to figure things out on my own for my entire life and I have always just had to find my own way, that now there were two of us and I just really needed help and for once I did not want to figure it out on my own.
He stood there, he listened.
And when I had expelled everything inside of me I cried.
He stepped forward, gave me one of his big hugs and said, "You're right. Lets figure it out."
And we did.
When we had figured it out he kissed me ever so gently and said, "I've always been proud of how you've always figured things out."
But we worked like a well-oiled machine.
Like everything we did, we talked it through and found the way to the other side.
It's why we worked.
We worked together.
And finally I did not have to figure things out on my own.
Then it was April 3rd.
The world came crashing down, the sun exploded, the stars ate themselves and the moon descended into nothing.
Just black.
And once again I found myself sitting, defeated, having to figure it out.
How can this happen?
How can life just go on now without him in it?
Doesn't the world know that it ended?
Why is it still turning and why is everyone just going on with life when life has ceased to exist?
How can anything go forward without him?
We had so many plans.
It was going to be a big week.
We were putting in an offer on that yellow house on Wells Crescent with the hot tub and pool, the big back deck where he could sun and I could drink wine in the hot tub while he told me how gross hot tubs are and I flicked water at him to tell him to just get in.
I can even hear him laugh when I would do things like that.
"You're bathing in your own filth, Dwan."
"But it feels so good though!"
We were going to get that bedroom set - I had finally given in to splurging on the expensive one.
I never splurged.
I had never owned new furniture.
But this was ours and new and everything was new even though we weren't new.
It's funny how every day those butterflies made it feel like it was all still new, though.
And he was going to get that big print that was hanging over the bedroom set when we looked at it because it was teal, orange and had a guitar.
It matched.
Like us.
And then I was in the darkness and having to figure it out.
I cried. I screamed. I bruised my already battered hand and was so angry.
I could no longer figure it out on my own because he was a part of me and now that entire part of my whole self was gone.
How?
Today I turned the key.
I stepped inside.
It's not our home, the yellow house on Wells Crescent, it's one of his best friend's grandparents' house from way back when he was little and I was little in a Cove 3.5 hours away and didn't know that other part of me yet existed.
Somehow I figured it out.
And though I know I'll never be whole again, I know I have no choice but to figure it out, even when I am, as my counselor said today, expelling energy I don't have because I keep push-push-pushing and keep trying to make an engine run when it is out of gas.
I figured it out, Brad.
It's not going to be easy, but I figured this part out.
I just hope you're still proud.
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